The Cocoa Chronicles
by DarveyAdventCalendar
Summary: A tradition takes root and Donna & Harvey follow it through the years with their family.


**Day 12  
**

* * *

**_The Cocoa Chronicles_**

_by Specter-Paulsen_

**.-*°****✧°*-.**

* * *

Harvey arrived home from what felt like the longest day ever to find the apartment freezing, a pot of something bubbling on the stove, and Donna dressed in a reindeer onesie, singing to '_Jingle Bell Rock'._

"Uh…. did I miss something?" He asked, but she hadn't heard him over the music.

"What a bright time, it's the right time, to rock the night away…" she sang joyfully, swinging her hips, the tight-fitting fabric clinging to her body.

"Donna…?" He went unheard again and she kept dancing, facing away from him. He strode up behind her and grabbed her shoulder.

She squealed and turned around, a hand over her heart in shock. "_God_, Harvey, don't _do _that."

"You couldn't hear me over the music…" he said meaningfully and she rolled her eyes but pulled her iPhone from her pocket and paused the music playing through the Bluetooth speakers in the apartment. "What's going on?"

"I'm getting into the Christmas spirit," she replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"It's the 29th of November."

"So? Thanksgiving is over, and now it's Christmas." She shrugged, turning toward the kitchen to check on the pot bubbling away. She stirred the pot and swore under her breath. "I might've over boiled it."

"Over boiled wha—" Harvey shook his head, cutting himself off, "_what _have you been doing?"

"I told you. Getting into the Christmas spirit."

"Donna, you…" he sighed, shaking his head. He knew it was no use getting into this with her. Best just to lean in. "Okay, cool, fine, makes sense. So what are you making?"

"Cocoa."

"Cocoa?"

"Cocoa."

She really was not making it easy for him. He gritted his teeth, not in the mood for this kind of frustrating back and forth: the kind that usually would amuse him and delight him, the kind that usually stirred a warmth inside him with love for her wonderful quirkiness. He stepped toward her, his hands finding her waist as he nestled himself behind her.

"Donna, babe, I love you, but I have absolutely no idea what's going on. I've had a hard day and I need you to tell me what on _Earth _is happening." He pressed his lips to her temple, softening any bite there may have been in his words. She turned in his arms, meeting his lips in a sweet kiss.

"I wanted to get into the Christmas spirit. So I dug out my Christmas stuff, put some carols on, and wanted to make cocoa to drink in front of the fire."

"Okay…" he was still confused, despite her explaining herself to him like he was a child. "And why is it so cold in here?"

"I turned the heat off because I wanted to light the fire but I just hadn't got to it yet. And it's _really_ warm in this onesie." She pulled at the neck of the garment in question, the fleece soft under her fingers.

"Take it off then," he said suggestively and she rolled her eyes.

"For a man whose brain is rather slow on the uptake this evening, other parts of you are remarkably fast-acting," she said, glancing down at his crotch. He chuckled and pulled her closer to him again.

"_That _part of me is always fast-acting when it comes to you." He pressed his lips to hers again and she chuckled into the kiss.

"Later," she replied softly, her hands on his chest. "Let me finish making this cocoa."

"I thought you said you over-boiled it?"

"No, I think it's ok. It hasn't formed a skin so I'm sure it'll be fine." She returned to stirring, then scooped up a handful of finely chopped chocolate, dropping into the steaming saucepan and stirring furiously. Harvey watched as the chocolate melted into the hot liquid, the smell of the cocoa prevalent in the air. Suddenly he was famished and opened the cupboard by the fridge, pulling out a pack of oreos he'd stashed there.

"Will you light the fire?" Donna asked, and Harvey grinned, relishing in the manly task. He knew from working with women like Jessica and Samantha and Donna that gender stereotypes were bullshit, but for some reason, his wife asking him to light a fire felt strangely _right_ and he puffed out his chest proudly as he lit the fire, the warmth already seeping through him as he stood by it.

A few moments later Donna wandered over, passing him a cup of hot cocoa, the oreo packet sticking out of the pocket of her onesie. He snagged the cookies, dipping one into his drink and munching on it, closing his eyes blissfully.

"This is delicious," he mumbled through a mouthful of crumbs and she rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless, sipping from her own mug as she lowered herself onto the couch, patting the space next to her.

"Tell me about this hard day," she said, taking another sip of cocoa.

"Just be glad you've already started your maternity leave," Harvey replied, his left hand falling to her swollen belly. She looked down at his hand, his wedding ring glinting in the light of the fire, their child safe in her womb under his palm and she smiled, her hand falling on top of his.

"Everything okay?" she asked, seeing the tension in his eyes, in the drawing of his eyebrows.

"Yeah, it's okay. Just a lot of bullshit and not enough people to handle it. It'll be better next week when everyone is back from the holiday weekend."

"Are you going in tomorrow?"

"No. I might do some work from here instead."

"Okay." She let her head fall to his shoulder, their hands joined on her stomach, enjoying one of the few evenings they had left as just the two of them.

* * *

It was nine days later when Theodore Gordon Specter entered the world, thankfully without drama or fanfare. A 13 hour labour culminated in a 'textbook' birth, according to the midwife, and Harvey chuckled out loud at the thought that of _course_ Donna had given birth perfectly. Is there anything this woman couldn't do?

When her son was laid on her breast, Donna thought she'd never seen anything so beautiful, tears filling her eyes immediately, all the pain was forgotten in an instant.

"You did good, Donna," Harvey whispered, staring at his wife and child; a sight he'd once thought he'd never get to see. "You did _so _good."

"We made this," she replied in wonder, "we made _him_."

"We did." Harvey swallowed the lump in his throat, tears in his eyes as he dropped a kiss on Donna's forehead, a finger stroking his son's cheek with more gentleness than he'd ever known he was capable of.

* * *

Theo's cries woke Donna at 5am on Christmas morning and she sleepily lifted the infant toward her from the co-sleeper crib he was nestled in, unfastening her pajama shirt and offering her breast to her hungry son. Once he was feeding comfortably, she closed her eyes, stifling a yawn.

"Morning," Harvey mumbled, his hand finding her thigh beneath the covers and squeezing lightly.

"Morning," she replied tiredly as he sat up alongside her, his hand coming to rest on his son's back as he kissed his wife's cheek. She laid her head on his shoulder while she fed Theo, eyes closed as she dozed lightly, barely asleep but resting all the same.

"It's Christmas," Harvey whispered in realization a few minutes later.

"Mmhm" she murmured in response, "merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, beautiful." He kissed her forehead, then leaned down to do the same to his son. "Merry Christmas, buddy. Your first one. It's gonna be a big day, so how about you go back to sleep after your breakfast and let your Mom get some rest, huh?"

Donna's eyes fluttered open and she watched lovingly as Harvey talks to their boy. She'd never thought he could become even softer than he was with her, but bringing a child into the world had done something to him and he was almost a different man, but in the most wonderful way. The care, the love, the devotion he had for their little family, for the tiny person in her arms was something she'd never get tired of watching. Harvey as a father made it worth the sleepless nights, the exhaustion, the painful breasts, the back aches, the anguish when she couldn't settle the baby. But the baby himself made it all worth it too. Becoming a mom was something she'd never been sure she wanted and now that she was, she wouldn't change a single thing about it. Even throughout her pregnancy she'd had doubts; they hadn't planned on it, but too much wine and an empty box of condoms had led them to take a risk and four weeks later a positive pregnancy test had her panicking in the bathroom on a Tuesday morning.

But three weeks with their baby and she knew it was the best risk she'd ever taken. She was exhausted, she was overwhelmed, some days she cried for no reason, she'd lost her appetite and it was _so _hard sometimes, but she wouldn't change a single thing. She loved her son so completely and had fallen in love with her husband even further than she'd known was possible.

"I think he's done," she whispered as Theo's mouth fell slack, letting go of her nipple as he fell asleep. She gently set him back in the crib next to her, sliding under the covers and snuggling into Harvey's side.

"He's the best Christmas present," Harvey said softly, holding onto her tightly.

"He is," she yawned. Harvey looked down at her as her eyes closed and her breathing evened out immediately as she fell asleep in his arms. He closed his own eyes, relaxing into Donna's embrace as the Specter family rested on that Christmas morning.

* * *

Later that day, after attending Christmas dinner hosted by Louis and Sheila, they settled Theo into his crib and cuddled onto the couch by the fire with cups of hot cocoa.

"What a day," Donna commented.

"He was the hit of the party," Harvey replied, letting Donna rest her feet in his lap.

"Well he's pretty damn cute."

"Lucy can't compete."

"Woah," Donna held a hand up, "you can't talk smack about other people's babies."

Harvey laughed softly, the timbre of his voice sending a slight shiver down her spine and she wished, not for the first time, that she wasn't still recovering from giving birth. He still aroused her without even trying, and while everyone told her she wouldn't feel the same desire after the birth, they'd been wrong. She felt it even more because she couldn't do anything about it.

"I'm not talking smack about her. I'm only saying that our baby is cuter than theirs."

"Well I can hardly argue with that." She sipped her cocoa and reached for his hand, letting her fingers entwine with his, the warmth of his skin seeping into her.

"Merry Christmas, Donna."

"Merry Christmas, Harvey."

* * *

A year later, Theo was walking, and it changed their Christmas drastically. For one, they'd had to put a tiny fence around the tree, to stop their son pulling all the decorations off of it. Second, they'd had to baby-proof everything and that meant cutting down on some of the decorating. But on Christmas eve, Donna decided it was time for Theo to try hot cocoa for the first time. So she'd dug out her reindeer onesie (a little stretched from being worn while she was heavily pregnant), and begin the routine all over again.

"Are you sure it's a good idea to do this before nap time?" Harvey asked, holding Theo in his arms as the child squirmed, trying to get his father to set him back on the floor so he could run around the house again.

They'd moved into the new place three months earlier, knowing they needed more space for a growing child, and wanting a yard for him to play in. So while it was sad to say goodbye to the apartment, the place where their child had been conceived, lived his first months of life, it was time to move on. Their new residence was in Brooklyn, a big family house with a relatively easy commute to the firm.

"Let him run around, tire himself out," Donna said, stirring the milk on the stovetop.

"Did you close the stairgate?"

"Uh.." she looked toward the ceiling, trying to remember, "... yes, I did."

"I'll double check." Harvey set their son on the floor and strode around the corner to the hall, returning a minute later.

"Closed?"

"Yep," he replied, watching Theo totter about on slightly unsteady legs. Donna finished stirring the cocoa, pouring it into mugs and then adding extra cold milk to Theo's sippy cup before replacing the lid and sucking on it to make sure it was cool enough not to burn the child's mouth.

"Theo, come here, baby. Mommy's got a special treat for you," she cooed, crouching on the floor and watching her baby run toward her, a grin on his face. She scooped him up, handing him the cup and watching as he gripped it in his chubby little hands, lifting it to his mouth. His tiny face lit up in glee as he tasted the chocolatey drink and he squealed in excitement.

"Guess he's inherited his mom's love of chocolate," Harvey remarked drily and Donna laughed, placing a kiss on the child's head, his soft hair tickling her cheek. He guzzled down the cocoa at a speed neither had anticipated, dropping his cup with a _thunk_ onto the floor when he was done.

"Good job, baby," Donna said, kissing his head again, "now go with daddy and he'll put you down for your nap." She handed him off to Harvey who took him upstairs to his nursery, and returned fifteen minutes later to find Donna microwaving his cocoa for him.

"You may have created a monster," he remarked. "He can't talk, but he knows how to plead with his eyes. He was _begging _me for more cocoa."

"He was not," Donna scoffed. She handed him his mug and gestured toward the fireplace they'd had installed immediately after moving in.

"Perfect." He grinned and they sat on the couch, relishing in the tradition.

* * *

The following year, another swollen belly shared in their cocoa tradition, a two year old Theo now well-versed in matters of chocolate, begging for more each time his cup was empty, an occasional tantrum resulting when either or both of his parents said no.

Donna was clad in the reindeer onesie once again, her pregnant belly fitting comfortably in it, even if it was becoming a little threadbare after three Decembers.

When they'd finally put their toddler to bed, Donna poured more cocoa and the pair sat by the fire, discussing names for the baby who was due to arrive in three months.

"I want to call her Jessica," Harvey said gently.

"You don't want to name her after your mom?" Donna was taken aback. When she was carrying Theo, Harvey had said he'd want to name the baby after his mom if it were a girl and she assumed he'd want the same this time around.

"Jessica Lily," he elaborated.

"It's a beautiful sentiment, Harvey."

"But you don't like it?" His face fell a little and she reached out to him.

"No, I love it. But what if it's a boy?"

"Then we'll think of something." He grinned, sure of himself as always. "But I want to name her after my mentor. Because I loved my mom, and I forgave her for what she did, but I didn't have a relationship with her for most of my adult life. And during that time, Jessica was there for me. I wouldn't be where I am if she hadn't taken a chance on me. And I want to honour that."

"She'll be thrilled," Donna said. "Why the change of heart? With Theo, you were determined if he'd been a girl you'd want to use your mom's name."

"I guess I just realised, that even though she's gone, and even though I want to honour her, there's someone else who needs to be honoured too."

"I love it. Jessica Lily Specter. She'll be a force to be reckoned with."

* * *

Another year later and nine month old Jessica was crawling on the kitchen floor, using the leg of her mom's pants to pull herself up to a standing position as Donna stirred a pot of cocoa once again.

"My girl is so advanced," Harvey said proudly, picking his daughter up and tickling her belly, her giggles ringing out in the room.

"Not advanced enough for cocoa though," Donna said sternly. They'd been back and forth on this all day; Harvey determined that Jessica should have her first taste of cocoa that year and Donna insisting she was still too young. Three year old Theo was on the fence; on the one hand wanting to share the tradition with his baby sister, and on the other wanting it to be his special thing with mommy and daddy.

"I know," Harvey retorted, having accepted that his wife would always get her way, and trusting her parenting skills more than anything else.

"Jessie can have her nap while we have cocoa!" said Theo from the floor, where he was happily turning the pages of a book he couldn't read.

"She sure can, buddy," Harvey replied, reaching down to ruffle his son's hair.

Donna watched Harvey with their children, and the love she felt for him and their babies floored her once again. Every now and then, in a moment like this one, she realised just how much had changed and how lucky she was. The family she never knew she wanted was the light of her life and the joy they gave her was unparalleled.

* * *

A number of years passed in a blur, but every December brought the cocoa tradition; a reindeer onesie, home made cocoa and a family by the fire.

"Mom! You have a hole in your onesie!" Nine year old Theo exclaimed, pointing at the threadbare fabric covering his mother's stomach. Sure enough, a small hole had appeared, her red tank top showing through and Donna looked sadly at Harvey.

"I guess it might be time to retire this old thing, huh?" She poked at the hole, the fabric worn from stretching over two babies and living through ten Decembers with many a cocoa night.

"You could fix it," Harvey said hopefully, but his expression told her that he knew it was time. Their babies were growing up, and while cocoa at Christmas would always be a family tradition, some things were always destined to change.

"It's ok, mom," six year old Jessica piped up, "you can make cocoa in your regular clothes."

The simplicity in her daughter's statement made Donna laugh. Yes, it was as easy as that. And so she decides she'll wear it for one last December, and then their tradition can grow with their children and evolve into something new. Just as their family had done.

.

End.

**.-*°****✧°*-.**


End file.
